The Darkness Of Harry Potter
by Louiseifer
Summary: Harry's loyalties to all that is good are weakening. He's tempted by dark magic and all his guardian, Remus Lupin can do is watch...
1. Chapter 1

The Darkness of Harry Potter  
  
A/N: Ok, this was inspired by a fic by Polkat called "Tom Riddle and the Fall To Power" which is very good and basically follows him from the orphanage and to Hogwarts. I noticed in her story some similarities to Harry and thought, well, if Tom can go evil, what are Harry's chances of staying pure and innocent his whole life? Coupled with the anger he shows in OotP, I think it's quite likely he'll go off the rails at some point. The question is, will his loyal friends be able to steer him back on track?  
  
This story begins in Harry's seventh year, and it contains slash. I'm not saying who yet, but you've been warned.  
  
***  
  
It should have been a perfect situation, waking up after a long lie in to find breakfast ready, but Harry felt just as bitter as he had the night before. He really, really didn't want to go downstairs, but he was meeting Ron and Hermione in two hours and he'd have to face his guardian, Remus Lupin, at some point. With a world-weary sigh, he climbed out of bed and got dressed very slowly. He had clothes which fit him now, even if some of them were second hand. Remus didn't have a lot of money, but he took better care of Harry than the Dursleys had. Or at least, he had always taken good care of Harry until last night. The memory of it stung like a fresh would in Harry's heart, and he muttered into the silent room, "how could he? How could he?"  
  
Eventually he couldn't delay things any longer. He left his room, passed Remus' own with it's dozens of locks, and padded as slowly as he could downstairs. He peered into each downstairs room as he passed, bathroom, living room, dining room, but there was nobody there. Remus was in the kitchen, whistling as he made breakfast. They seemed to be entirely alone in the house.  
  
"Good morning, Harry," said Remus, his voice as bright as ever, but Harry could see in his eyes the look of guilt and, oddly enough, wariness. Remus was nervous? Harry didn't reply but accepted the plate of bacon and eggs which was placed in front of him. He ate in silence, so did Remus. Only after the werewolf had collected up their plates and began to wash up, did he speak.  
  
"So, Harry. . . Where are you meeting your friends?"  
  
Harry glared at the back of Remus' head as he watched his guardian wash up. "I invited them here. Then we'll go to Diagon Alley."  
  
"Good, you can get your school things. Your envelope arrived this morning." He gestured to the counter where a thick parchment envelope lay. Harry went and picked it up. 'Good,' he thought, glaring at Remus' back again. 'The sooner I go back to school, the sooner I can get away from you and *him*.'  
  
He opened the envelope and pulled out the letters inside. One was the usual reminder that school started on the first of September, the other a new list of books and equipment he would need. The normality and regularity of it spoke volumes to him. He had found himself clinging to all the little consistent things in his life like a drowning man clinging to driftwood. Every year this envelope arrived and he would go and buy everything on the list. So simple and normal. It was almost as if he could forget last night entirely. . .  
  
But he couldn't. Remus was watching him now, and the werewolf cleared his throat.  
  
"Harry, I. . .I know you're angry but. . ."  
  
"I'm not angry," lied Harry, coldly. "You do whatever you want, it's nothing to do with me."  
  
"But it is your concern what I do, the same as it's my concern what you do. We're family, Harry, and -"  
  
"That's right!" Harry interrupted, suddenly unable to control his anger. "That's what you said when Sirius died, isn't it! Dumbledore said I could live with you like I would have done with Sirius and you promised we'd be a proper family! A PROPER FAMILY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE AND YOU'VE RUINED IT!"  
  
Remus' face remained calm as Harry yelled at him, but there was a tiny tremor under his eye which would have betrayed his emotion if Harry had been paying attention. When Harry had finished, Remus took a breath.  
  
"Listen to me now -"  
  
"NO! there you go, talking in that stupid calm voice of yours again, just like you did when Sirius died! You've never cried about him, have you? You've never sat up in bed at night and wished with all your heart he was still here! You NEVER loved him like you say you did because you don't care that he's dead!"  
  
"That's not true," muttered Remus, looking away from the boy.  
  
"It IS true! He's been gone for barely a year and you're acting as if everything's perfectly okay!" Harry's fists clenched, and he knew that if Remus had been stupid enough to move towards him he would have swung for him. "You never loved Sirius," he growled. "Not like I did. You might have pretended you did."  
  
"Enough." Remus moved towards the door, but Harry still had some excess anger left and blocked his path.  
  
"Just admit it! You don't care he's gone."  
  
"No."  
  
"I'm not stupid!"  
  
"I know you aren't, Harry, but I won't say I don't care. I do. I cared about Sirius more than anything else and now I care about you. You're my main responsibility and as much of a son as I'll ever have. I'll always care for you, whatever happens. But Sirius was different. We had our time together and I should be grateful for it, but his life is ended, Harry. What am I supposed to do, lock myself away and grow old bitterly with nothing but my grief?"  
  
"Exactly!" Harry screamed. "That's what he would have done for you!"  
  
"No it isn't, you know it isn't!" Remus' face had gone red. He was angry, something Harry had never seen before. In fact, he'd never seen Remus speak with such fierce passion since they had captured Wormtail in Harry's third year. "You never really knew Sirius, Harry, you didn't know him long enough! You didn't go to school with him, and you didn't stand side-by-side with him in the war against Voldemort!" Remus couldn't contain himself any longer, he was shouting now. "All you can see is, your chance of having a guardian who can give you everything you want is gone. Well I'm sorry if I'm not good enough for you Harry, but don't ever think I didn't love Sirius! I would have given my life for him! The same as I'd give it for you, although apparently that isn't enough." He pushed Harry aside and went into the sitting room, where he shoved a few things around in a vain effort to tidy up a bit. He was aware of Harry watching him from the kitchen doorway but ignored him until the boy spoke.  
  
"If you loved him, how could you betray him?" Harry said coldly.  
  
"Harry!" Remus shouted. "Sirius is DEAD!"  
  
"Well I'm glad you've come to terms with that so quickly!"  
  
"It was a year ago!" He stopped again. "We all deal with these things in different ways," Remus continued, fighting to regain his calm. "I thought you had moved on too."  
  
"Remus, I wasn't his lover! I've lost my third parent, I'm used to it by now, but you have no excuse! And then you brought that stranger into the house, our house, and -"  
  
"Kail is an old friend of mine and -"  
  
"I don't know him! He's an absolute stranger and you brought him into our house - "  
  
"I wanted you to meet him, that's all!" Remus wailed.  
  
"Well I'm not interested in meeting any stupid replacement for Sirius!"  
  
"I'm not *trying* to replace anyone! Like I said, I've known Kail for a long time."  
  
"Oh yeah? How long have you been sleeping with him, then?" Harry regretted it immediately, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Remus' face went blank and unreadable, and the sudden absence of outward rage let Harry know he'd gone too far. He muttered something which might have been an apology and stormed back upstairs, slamming all the doors he went through behind him.  
  
Remus sighed heavily and sat down, running his fingers through his greying hair. He had never thought being Harry's legal guardian would be so difficult both physically and mentally. Harry was a demanding child now that he was seventeen. Hardly a child in fact, more of a young man. He was taller than Remus, and broader. He looked very much like James, in fact, but Remus was beginning to see how very different Harry was from his father. James had never had all this pent-up anger inside him, never took things out on his friends and loved ones like Harry tended to do. It worried Remus that Harry's temper could, and did, snap at any moment. He had seen even Ron and Hermione become anxious when Harry walked into the room after a bad day, and lately Harry had been scarcely civil to Remus himself, even before the appearance of Kail. It was an utter transformation from the polite boy Remus had met four years ago, and the whole thing mystified him.  
  
However, right now Remus couldn't feel as much sympathy for Harry as he felt he ought to. His feelings had been hurt, this morning and last night when Harry had been so rude to Kail. The suggestion that Remus had never loved Sirius was what cut deep though. Remus caught himself feeling glad that Sirius would never have to see this vicious side to Harry Potter. He had to take his mind of things, so he compulsively tidied up the mess he had made earlier while trying to tidy up, and fought back the tears of frustration.  
  
To Be Continued. . . 


	2. Chapter 2

The Darkness Of Harry potter  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Partnerships: Ron/Hermione, Remus/Sirius (implied and in the past) Remus/Kail, possible Harry/Draco in future chapters.  
  
Disclaimer (forgot about it in chapter 1): Any regular Harry Potter characters are not mine. Any original characters are. Crap, I just broke a nail.  
  
A/N: Reviewer Responses:  
  
~M~ (And Justin) Thank you! And Jus, you can have my autograph if I can have yours ^_^  
  
Rayvern: See above.  
  
Kira6: Thank you very much, keep checking for updates.  
  
Clogsy: As ever, I appreciate you reading my stuff. Thanks for your encouragement!  
  
***  
  
Hermione and Ron arrived early, and Remus answered the door. They both stared at his tear-streaked face in horror.  
  
"Are you alright?" asked Hermione, automatically reaching towards him.  
  
"I'm ok," Remus said quickly, taking an involuntary step backwards. "There was just. . .I think I may have. . .Oh, I don't know. Come on in, you two."  
  
"Is Harry ok?" Ron asked automatically.  
  
Remus hunted for words to describe what had just passed between himself and his adopted son, but was saved by Hermione, who had been watching the expressions flit across his face.  
  
"You had an argument."  
  
Remus nodded, running his fingers through his hair again. "It was. . .He'll tell you. He's upstairs."  
  
Ron and Hermione took the hint and raced up the stairs to Harry's room. Ron knocked on the door, then shoved it open without waiting for an answer. "Hiya, Harry!"  
  
Harry had been sitting at his desk, reading something, but forced a smile onto his face when his friends entered.  
  
"Harry, guess what!?" Hermione squealed, suddenly unable to contain herself any longer. She thrust something in front of his face - a shiny, shield- shaped badge with 'Head Girl' in tiny little letters. "I'm Head Girl!" she added, just in case Harry couldn't read.  
  
Harry, who had forgotten even to wonder who had got the positions of head boy and girl this year, grinned at her. "Well done, Hermione," he said with genuine warmth. He glanced at Ron, who shrugged.  
  
"No idea who got Head Boy," said Ron.  
  
Harry stood up and picked up his coat. "Let's get out of here," he said.  
  
It was a short walk from Remus' house to Diagon Alley, and when they got there they all took out their equipment lists.  
  
"Nothing different this year," Ron observed. "Just the texts for out NEWT finals."  
  
"JUST?" Hermione exclaimed incredulously. "Ron, this year is going to be one of the most important in our lives! I hope you're going to take school seriously this year. Say something to him, Harry."  
  
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, work harder, Ron."  
  
Ron scowled. "Quit nagging, Hermione. We all know how important this year is."  
  
"Yes, well, just make sure you do better than Fred and George."  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Well, I'm sorry but I know you can do much better than they did, Ron."  
  
Ron's nose went pink at the complement, and he stared at his feet. Harry couldn't help a small smile as he noticed this. But with the ease of years of practice, Ron swiftly changed the subject before it had a chance to arise.  
  
"So what's up with you Harry? You're being very quiet?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Oh come on!" said Hermione. "You and Professor Lu. . .Remus had an argument, didn't you?"  
  
Harry nodded. He was silent for a moment, then blurted out; "He's got this stupid new boyfriend and invited him round last night and it's so obvious he's trying to replace Sirius, he's hardly been dead a year and -"  
  
"Woah!" Hermione held up her hands for Harry to slow down. "You're mad because Remus is over Sirius' death?"  
  
"Yes! Last year, after Sirius died, Remus gave me this touching speech about how in love they had been and that he was finding it hard to deal with the fact that Sirius wasn't there any more. Well obviously it was all lies!"  
  
Harry had stopped walking and was obviously trying very hard but unfortunately rather unsuccessfully not to make a scene, but was nevertheless attracting a few stares. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.  
  
"Harry, you've just found the answer yourself. Remus finds it hard to carry on without Sirius, he obviously needs the help of this new man."  
  
"Yeah, who is it?" asked Ron.  
  
"A bloke named Kail. Don't know his last name," said Harry sulkily.  
  
"Well, what do you know about him?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Nothing at all!"  
  
"Well maybe you should get to know him, Harry, if he's so important to Remus."  
  
Harry felt a tinge of guilt as he remembered what Remus had said "I wanted you to meet him, that's all!" He'd been given the chance to get to know Kail, but had thrown it back in Remus' face. He was still angry with his adopted father, but he began to realise what a selfish child Kail must have thought he was.  
  
Harry was doing his homework in the living room when he heard the front door bang open and voices in the hallway. One of the voices was Remus, and he sounded genuinely happy for the first time in months. The other voice was unfamiliar, but seconds later Remus opened the living room door, beaming.  
  
"Are we interrupting?"  
  
Harry shook his head and rolled up the parchment he had been writing on. "I was just finishing anyway."  
  
"Good," said Remus. "Harry, there's someone I want to introduce to you. . ."  
  
And Kail followed Remus into the room. He was a tall man, a little taller than Remus, and had long, thick, wavy blond hair. His face was broad and open, and he smiled jovially at Harry, bright blue eyes twinkling. He wore magnificent yet simple dark green robes which were made of something very like silk, only more so. Harry would later learn Kail had been in the same year as Remus, Sirius, and Harry's father, James at school, but he looked far younger than the werewolf because his face was smooth and free of lines, and he seemed to have a youthful liveliness about him which initially caused Harry to warm to him. He held out a hand, and Harry shook it.  
  
"Hi, I'm Kail," said the newcomer. "And you're Harry. You must get this all the time, but you don't have to introduce yourself to me. Nice to meet you at last, I've heard so much about you from Remus."  
  
"Er. . .Thanks." As usual, Harry was slightly spooked to meet someone who already knew everything about him. He looked to Remus for help, but the laughter had gone from the werewolf's face, leaving him looking rather anxious.  
  
"Harry," said Remus, "you should know that . . .Well, er, look, I'll get us some tea and then explain the situation." And he swept into the kitchen, leaving Harry with the newcomer.  
  
Kail was looking around at the living room, smiling faintly. "Just as I remember it," he chuckled. "Remus doesn't change, does he?" he grinned at Harry, and Harry immediately thought he could trust the wearer of such a grin. There was something about Kail which made it impossible to believe he could ever hide anything from you.  
  
"Sit down," said Harry, acting the welcoming host. "I, er. . .I'll just put these things away." He shoved all his homework back into his school bag and darted up the stairs to dump it in his bedroom. When he came back down, Remus was sitting in his tattered old chair, and a cup of tea was waiting for Harry on the table. Kail was sitting in the chair nearest Remus, sipping his own tea. He looked quite at home, but Harry could tell from Remus' expression that something awkward was about to take place.  
  
"Harry," said Remus. "I'm not going to beat about the bush. Let me just say it. Kail and I are. . .Er -"  
  
Kail finished the sentence for him; "in love. Remus and I are in love."  
  
Remus flashed a half-relieved, half-nervous smile at him, then went back to focusing on Harry, who's lower jaw was hanging loosely.  
  
"I hope you're okay with -" Remus began, but he didn't finish once more. Harry interrupted.  
  
"You're in love with someone else?" he asked in a disbelieving whisper.  
  
"No, just with Kail -"  
  
"WHAT ABOUT SIRIUS?" Harry leaped to his feet, his fists clenching. "You told me you loved him!"  
  
Remus tried to remain calm. "Sirius died a year ago."  
  
"That means nothing! Imagine if he knew you were already seeing someone else? He'd be furious!"  
  
"No he wouldn't," said Remus and Kail at the same time. They shared a glance, then both looked back at Harry.  
  
"Kail was at school with us. We both knew Sirius very well indeed. Do you think we'd be doing this if we thought he wouldn't want us to?" Remus was doing a good job at keeping his cool, and gazed steadily at Harry.  
  
"I don't know!" Harry screamed. "All I know is you can't have really loved Sirius!" And before anyone could say anything else, he stormed upstairs, slammed his door shut, and locked it against the rest of the world.  
  
***  
  
"Oh Harry," sighed Hermione.  
  
"Don't start," snapped Harry, starting off down the street again. Hermione and Ron exchanged another long glance, then ran after him.  
  
"Let's go for an ice cream, shall we, Harry?" Ron suggested, trying desperately to change the subject to something more light-hearted.  
  
"No," said Harry. "Let's just get what we came for then go home."  
  
"Home? We thought you were mad at Remus."  
  
"I am, but he's exaggeratedly nice when we've been arguing."  
  
Hermione's face paled, but Harry was walking away from them again, Ron trotting at his heels like a puppy. Hermione's attention was distracted from them when they came to Flourish and Blotts. A familiar figure was lurking outside the bookshop, and stepped in front of them. It was Draco Malfoy, and he grinned at them in what Hermione saw as a very suspicious way.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron growled, stepping in front of Harry and Hermione, and balling his fists as he glared at the smaller, blond boy.  
  
Malfoy's grin widened, and he looked incredibly smug. "I hope you three are having a good summer, I really do," he said silkily. "Because when we get back to Hogwarts, you're going to have the worst year of your lives. Even you, Potter, and we all know what *you've* been through."  
  
"What're you talking about?" Ron snapped.  
  
"You'll find out soon enough, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. He swirled his cloak around him as he sauntered away.  
  
"Well," said Hermione, blinking in bewilderment. "I wonder what he's so please about."  
  
"Can't be anything good," grunted Harry, leading the way into Flourish and Blotts. Within was another unpleasant surprise - another Malfoy.  
  
Lucius, Draco's father, was pouring over some text books when Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the shop. He looked up immediately and fixed them with his cold, blue-eyed stare. Ron immediately tried to turn round and leave again, but Lucius Malfoy was suddenly in front of them, blocking their way to the exit.  
  
"Ah," he said, eyes glinting dangerously, "Potter, Weasley and Granger. What a surprise. Out buying your school books are you?"  
  
Hermione nodded mutely but politely.  
  
"Checked your lists carefully, have you? I doubt it, or you would have noticed you have not been set a Defence Against The Dark Arts text this year. The rest of the school will receive that information tomorrow, but as you're here now, I may as well let you know I have reached my decision." He grinned nastily. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, but he chuckled. "Don't be alarmed, I will not be teaching you. I could never teach in an establishment which allowed so many. . ." his gaze lingered on Hermione for just a moment too long, "filthy little half-breeds," he finished, disgustedly. "No, indeed, I was given the pleasurable task of appointing someone the position of Defence Against The Dark Arts professor by the Minister for Magic himself. The teacher I chose asked me to help him with a few last minute arrangements. I'm sure you'll like him, he's an old, old friend of mine." Lucius Malfoy picked up a book from the display behind him and threw it at Ron. "I doubt you can afford a brand new copy, Weasley, but you can have a go at memorising it while you're here."  
  
He sneered at them all one last time, and swept from the shop. Ron swore.  
  
"A friend of the Malfoys teaching us? It's going to be hell!"  
  
"Well, we'll just have to make the best of it," said Hermione, taking the text book and moving away to look for the items on their lists.  
  
Harry was almost silent as they completed their shopping. His mind was spinning furiously. He kept seeing that open, smiling face as Kail introduced himself, the look of hurt disappointment Remus wore when Harry shouted at him, the malicious glint in the eyes of Malfoy. . .He was angry, but he wasn't sure why. Or maybe there wasn't a single reason . . . just a lot of small reasons.  
  
Whatever it was, he knew that if he spoke to anyone, it'd come out as a retort or an insult, so he kept his mouth shut. For once, he was thankful that Hermione and Ron were more interested in each other than in him. He managed a small smile. It had taken six years for the two of them to realise they saw each other as more than just friends, and it was taking even longer for them to finally do something about it. Harry himself had given up on all things romantic after his relationship with Cho Chang frazzled out. There were simply no girls who caught his attention like she had, and he didn't have a clue where she had gone after finishing Hogwarts that year. Part of him wanted to say good riddance: she had caused him more pain than happiness, but he knew he was becoming lonely, isolating himself, even shunning Hermione and Ron at times.  
  
And on top of all this anger and frustration was the heavy, dark cloak of guilt. He was not blind to what his temper was doing to other people, people he loved, people he needed. Subconsciously he was driving them away, but consciously he was clinging to them for his very sanity.  
  
He shook his head to dislodge these thoughts. He didn't need romance, he was fine. All he needed to do was control his temper, and that would be easy as long as he wasn't antagonised.  
  
Hermione and Ron walked back home with him, where they discovered Remus cooking lunch. Even Harry had to smile at this scene; Remus was not a good cook. The small kitchen was a complete mess, food everywhere and pots and pans strewn at random. Remus was darting about, trying unsuccessfully to organise everything, occasionally mopping sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He smiled with relief as Hermione took the saucepan she was holding away from him.  
  
"Go and sit down," she advised the werewolf, and handed the pan to a startled Ron. "We'll take care of all this. . .Um, what were you trying to make here?"  
  
Remus handed her an open recipe book, showing the instructions for making spaghetti bolognaise. "I just thought I'd try something different for lunch," he said apologetically.  
  
"You can do this magically, you know," she said, laughing.  
  
"That usually turns out worse, I'm afraid, Hermione," sighed Lupin. "So did you all get everything you needed?"  
  
They nodded, then Harry told the story of their encounters with the Malfoys. Harry saw a familiar look come over Remus' face - it was exactly the expression he'd worn three years ago, just before admitting to Harry that he had known his father and Sirius Black. Remus had obviously heard this story before.  
  
"Don't worry too much about it," he said. "You new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor is. . .A well-learned man. He'll certainly help you pass your NEWTS."  
  
"Who is he?" asked Ron.  
  
"From what I've heard from Professor Dumbledore, his name is Professor Rinaldi. I know him. He's a year or so older than me."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. "How do you know a friend of Lucius Malfoy?"  
  
"I used to work with him somewhere," said Remus, but he had hesitated a moment too long, and Harry knew this wasn't the whole truth. He didn't bother to ask any further questions, but joined Ron and Hermione in the kitchen, where he got in the way for a while before finally the guilt was too much, and he joined Remus once more in the living room. The werewolf had his feet up and was reading the Daily Prophet, but when Harry sat beside him on the couch, he put the paper down and regarded his adopted son with an almost expression-less gaze.  
  
Harry swallowed heavily. "I'm sorry," he muttered, staring at his hands. "I shouldn't be angry at you, it's not your fault. . ."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry," said Remus softly. "I didn't expect you just to welcome a stranger into our home. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be so rude to him either, but I'm sure Kail will forgive you. He knows a lot of what you've been through. I know it isn't easy for you. It isn't easy for me either, believe me."  
  
"I know, and I'm really sorry."  
  
Remus smiled at him, and Harry felt a weight lift from his heart. He was forgiven. He had known all along Remus would not stay angry with him for long, but now he knew he hadn't cut his mentor too deep. Harry spontaneously did something he had seldom done; he gave Remus a tight hug, which after a brief hesitation was returned, then they both grinned foolishly at each other.  
  
"Aren't we a pair?" laughed the werewolf. Harry nodded mutely. He could hear Ron and Hermione talking together in the kitchen, and smell the distinct, comforting, slightly canine scent of his mentor around him. In a fleeting blissful moment he knew he was here with the most important people in his life. It was indeed a fleeting moment.  
  
To Be Continued. . . ?  
  
***  
  
A/N: R&R or I'll eat your souls. Mmm, Souls. 


	3. Chapter 3

The Darkness of Harry Potter  
  
Chapter Three  
  
***  
  
The remains of the summer flew past too quickly. Harry spent it at home, as both Ron and Hermione spent the last week of the holidays away - Ron went to stay with his brother Charlie in Romania, and Hermione went with her parents to France. Harry was content to stay with Remus, who seemed to spend most of his time with his nose deep in a book. This left Harry to his own devices, and he frequented Diagon Alley, walking up and down, talking to acquaintances and, mostly, hanging about in the latest boutique to open in the alley.  
  
Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was a small shop with a lot on offer. Before it opened, many had speculated that it would take a lot of custom away from Gambol and Japes joke shop, but since the Weasley twins offered such a new and original selection of goods, this wasn't so. Gambol and Japes specialised in the traditional trick which children would never bore off, and the Weasleys offered them something a little bit different. As Harry browsed the shelves, he noticed many familiar items from when he had known Fred and George Weasley at Hogwarts. One of his favourites was the wide selection of extendable ears, and he stocked up on very realistic false eyes, which could be placed over your eyelids and make you look wide awake while you took a snooze during particularly boring History of Magic lessons. The large range of trick sweets were as popular as they had ever been - puking pastels for faking illness, exploding strawberry bon bons for creating a distraction, chewing gum which made you float, colour-change gobstoppers which not only changed colour themselves, but changed the colour of your skin. But the thing Harry liked best about the shop was it's proprietors.  
  
"HARRY!" Fred appeared from the back room as the bell above the door jangled. He vaulted over the counter and gave Harry a tight hug. "Great to see you! George, get out here, it's Harry!"  
  
The half dozen customers in the shop turned to stare at Harry, who went pink and waved feebly. George came out of the back room and grinned at Harry. "Hey, Harry! Great timing, we were just looking for a new vict-er. . .tester." George held out a handful of little shiny balls, like cake decorations, which jiggled about in his hand, climbing over each other in a desperate struggle to stay at the top of the pile. They seemed to flow, like little blobs of liquid, and they glistened in the light.  
  
"What are they?" Harry asked, peering curiously at the things. They were oddly familiar.  
  
George lowered his voice and beckoned Harry away from the other customers. "Our most amazing breakthrough, Harry! They're invisibility pills. Made from similar stuff to your invisibility cloak, these generate an invisibility field from inside when you swallow them. These are really just prototypes, but they're perfectly safe so I thought I'd let you and Remus give them a try." Fred and George were in a kind of awe of Remus, one of the creators of the Marauder's Map. They often sent him their new products, asking for his opinions, and he was always pleased to test them out. Harry pocketed a fistful of the little glistening drops.  
  
"So how's life, Harry?" Fred asked cheerfully. Harry told them about Remus and Kail, which they took as good news. However, they didn't like the idea of a friend of Lucius Malfoy teaching at Hogwarts.  
  
"Uh-oh, you'd better make sure you've got plenty of pranks lined up to play on him!" laughed George.  
  
Fred scowled. "You'd better make sure you get away with everything too. I dread to imagine how he'd punish miscreants."  
  
George nodded frantically, then darted around the shop, collecting up items he had decided Harry wouldn't be able to survive the next school year without. "Don't worry about paying," he insisted. "If it wasn't for you, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes would still be nothing but a dream."  
  
"And we'd be trainee accountants by now," added Fred, pulling a face.  
  
George vaulted behind the counter again to serve a customer. Harry wondered, as Fred led him out to the back room, if it was physically possible for the Weasley twins to walk round something rather than jump over it. "Look, Harry, we were actually hoping you'd drop by today." His face was suddenly serious. "We heard from Percy recently. He wasn't interested in us or mum and dad -" Fred scowled deeply - "but he wanted us to tell you to be extra careful this year. I told him to go and boil his head for you."  
  
Harry grinned. "Thanks. Did he say why I had to be extra careful?"  
  
"Nope. But he probably heard about this friend of the Malfoys or something."  
  
"Yeah." Harry decided he didn't want to talk about Percy and quickly changed the subject. "So these invisibility pills actually work, then?"  
  
"Absolutely!" said George's voice behind him. "They last half an hour each. You can take another when the half hour's up if you need to. And if you need to become visible again before that, you take one of these. . ." He wandered off to find the reversing pills.  
  
"You only need one, mind," said Fred. "We're not quite sure what happens if you take more, but it can't be good."  
  
George came back and handed Harry a dozen small orange pills. They lay still in his hand, unlike the flowing invisibility pills. Harry pocketed them.  
  
"We're closing for lunch now," Fred announced.  
  
"And we'd be honoured if you'd join us, Mr Potter."  
  
***  
  
Harry showed the invisibility pills to Remus, who peered over the top of his book at them. He put down the volume ("Revised Theories on Involuntary Lycanthropy" by Lydia Lamarr) and reached out to pick one of the little silvery blobs up between his thumb and forefinger. He pushed his glasses more firmly up the bridge of his nose. "Harry, do you know what these are made of?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Looks a lot like my dad's invisibility cloak though."  
  
"Yes. . . I think they include something which is the active ingredient in the cloak. Do the Weasley twins know that Obfuscated werewolf hair is potentially very harmful if ingested?"  
  
"Obfuscated werewolf?" Harry asked.  
  
"There are lots of types of werewolf, Harry. More than we know about. Obfuscated werewolves may be very rare, or they may be very common. They're seldom seen, but that's saying nothing. They mostly live in Asia, and they have the power of, well, obfuscation. They're difficult to see. They blur with their surroundings and essentially become invisible when in their transformed state. I used to know one, he wasn't a bad chap." Remus squeezed the pill between his fingers. "The fur of this werewolf isn't like fur, it's sleek fibres, like your invisibility cloak. That's mostly woven out of everyday fibre, cotton or something, with the fur woven in."  
  
As he examined the pill, Harry grew curious. "What sort of werewolf are you then?"  
  
"Me?" Remus laughed. "I'm your common or garden European werewolf. Harry, I wouldn't take these pills."  
  
"Fred and George said they'd been tested."  
  
"Yes, but still, I'd rather you didn't. I'd better talk to the twins about this. . .And you'd better start packing. Don't want to be late for the train in the morning."  
  
With his mind buzzing about werewolves and invisibility cloaks, Harry went up to his room to pack his trunk. He had a lot to think about as he lay in bed, waiting to fall asleep, and his mind drifted, all of its own accord, to wondering who had become Head Boy. . .  
  
***  
  
"I don't BELIEVE it!" Ron yelled when Harry met him and Ginny on platform nine and three quarters.  
  
Harry blinked. "What?"  
  
"Draco bloody Malfoy!"  
  
"What's he done now?"  
  
"I've no idea, but it's got him the Head Boy's badge!"  
  
"You're joking?" Harry stared in horror at Ron, who shook his head.  
  
"It's going to be awful," whimpered Ginny. "He hates me, he really hates me, I'm going to be in so much trouble. . ."  
  
"Ginny, stop babbling," Ron snapped. "I reckon Dumbledore's gone senile over summer. That must be it, he'd never make *Malfoy* head boy!"  
  
"It's Hermione I feel sorry for," said Harry. "Does she know yet?"  
  
"Well she hasn't shown up." Ron stared over the heads of all the other students. "She'd better hurry up or she's going to be late."  
  
They were forced to abandon their lookout for Hermione if they wanted seats on the train. The last carriage left was the one right at the back, and Harry, Ron and Ginny joined Neville inside. Moments later the door opened again, and a blond head peered in. Then the rest of Draco Malfoy followed it. He had magically enlarged his Head Boy badge so it was unmissable on his black robes.  
  
"Where's Granger?" he demanded.  
  
"Not here yet," said Ron.  
  
Malfoy stared at them all. "Right. Well when she gets here, tell her to . . ." he stopped. "Tell her I'll be back to talk to her. Please," he added, then left.  
  
Ron burst out laughing. "Did you see that? This is great, Harry! I never thought of this. Not only do we have to watch our step now Malfoy's Head Boy, but he has no be *nice* to us or he'll get his stinking badge taken away!"  
  
Harry grinned appreciatively. Moments later, Hermione came panting into the compartment, and seconds after that, they started to move.  
  
"It's not like you to be late," said Ron, as Hermione sat down next to him.  
  
"I'm not late, I just had to stop in Diagon Alley to pick up a few things. . ." And she dropped a huge pile of books on Harry's feet.  
  
"Ow! Hermione, I thought you bought all your books already?"  
  
"I bought all the set texts, yes, but I though I'd do some additional reading."  
  
"You must have two dozen books here!"  
  
"Yes, well, I'm doing a lot of subjects, aren't I?" Hermione swept her hair out of her face and settled down in her seat.  
  
"Oh, Malfoy's looking for you," said Ron, grinning.  
  
"Malfoy!?" Hermione exclaimed. "Why?"  
  
"Guess who's head boy?"  
  
Hermione's mouth opened and shut a couple of times. "*Malfoy*?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Has Dumbledore gone mad?" Hermione had jumped out of her seat again, and strode towards the door. "I'd better go and see Malfoy, then, find out if it's true." And she left.  
  
Hermione didn't return for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts. Ron suggested they go and find her, but Harry didn't think she'd appreciate that.  
  
There was still no sign of her as they filed into the great hall.  
  
"Is she avoiding us?" Ginny whispered, searching the hall for Hermione.  
  
"I doubt it, she's just got a lot of Head Girl stuff to do, I expect," said Ron, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. "Here, can you see the new guy?" He pointed up at the staff table. Harry stared along the row of familiar faces, and shook his head.  
  
"Back." Hermione took her seat between Ron and Harry.  
  
"Oh, and where've you been?" demanded Ron.  
  
"Nowhere. Has the sorting started?"  
  
"Nowhere near."  
  
"Oh good."  
  
They sat and watched as a line of red-faced first years stumbled onto the stage, and McGonagal put the sorting hat down on its stool in front of them. The hat finished its song, and then began to call the new students one by one to sit on the stool and pull the hat over their heads. Slowly, the line of children shrank, and the new students were sorted into their houses. Somebody very small and dark haired sat beside Harry, still shaking nervously.  
  
"Hi," said Harry kindly, in a spontaneous effort to make the boy feel more comfortable. Instead, the boy gave Harry a look of pure fear and went back to staring at his hands, which were on the table in front of him. Harry glanced at Hermione, who had been watching.  
  
"I'm Hermione," she said to the boy. "And this is my friend Harry. What's your name?"  
  
The boy glanced up again. "G-G-Gary," he stuttered. "Gary M-M-Mooncalf."  
  
"Strange name," said Ron, joining in.  
  
"Shuttup," hissed Hermione. "It's a very nice name, Gary."  
  
The boy went bright pink and examined his hands again. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. But they were saved further embarrassment as the plates on the big tables began to fill with delicious food.  
  
"Excellent!" said Ron, tucking in immediately. Harry was about to help himself to some potatoes when Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
"Ow! Hermione!"  
  
"Look." Hermione gestured towards the doors of the great hall. A man had entered, walking casually past the tables, waving at Dumbledore and finally stopping at the Gryffindor table. Everyone was staring at him except Harry, who noticed the small boy next to him was trembling more than ever, and seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.  
  
"Alright, Gary?" said the man, smiling amiably at the boy. "Nice to see you're in Gryffindor. I'll see you first thing tomorrow. Good luck!" And then he ambled up to the staff table and took his seat next to Professor Snape, who was glaring angrily at the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at Gary, who forced a small smile.  
  
"That's my uncle. He's a teacher."  
  
"What's he teach?"  
  
"Defence Against The Dark Arts. He's really good at it."  
  
The three exchanged another long look, then stared at the new teacher. He was almost lounging in his chair, waiting for something. Dumbledore stood up, and this act alone caused the hall to fall silent.  
  
"If I could interrupt your feast for a mere moment," the Headmaster said, smiling faintly, "I'd like to introduce to you our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who appears to have found his way here at last. Please welcome Professor Rinaldi."  
  
Everyone stared at the lounging man for a few moments, and there was a smattering of applause before the students turned their attention back to their plates. Harry didn't think Professor Rinaldi looked too evil, but didn't say anything in front of the teacher's nephew, even if said nephew was having trouble handling his cutlery in his nervousness. His attention was slowly drawn to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was surprisingly not sitting with his old cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Apparently they weren't suitable companions for the Head Boy any more. Instead he was sitting with Blaise Zabini and a Slytherin prefect Harry didn't know.  
  
Draco Malfoy. Now there was an enigma. Someone Harry had put a lot of effort into hating, and yet the slim blond held a kind of fascination for him. It was almost impossible to define why, but Harry was pleased Draco was Head Boy. It meant, of course, that Malfoy could no longer get away with picking on those smaller or weaker than him, but Harry was neither of those any more. Perhaps this year would be a good year to end the enmity between himself and Draco Malfoy. After all, Harry would rather not have any enemies at all.  
  
But all that was for later. Right now, Harry had plenty to take his mind off his problems. He was back with his friends, and lessons would begin the next day. This year was going to be tough at Hogwarts, but when it was over, his life would finally be his own. Better make it a good one then, he thought, as he ladled another huge portion of potatoes onto his plate.  
  
To Be Continued. . . ?  
  
***  
  
A/N: All the stuff about the invisibility cloak is from my imagination. If you don't agree, I'm not stopping you making up your own theories, but this is the best I could come up with. Mmm, obscurities.  
  
Next chapter will be up as soon as I find time to write it. I've got a few fics going, and as you may know I have a very short atten. . . Ooh, look, something shiny. . . 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Again, like with the invisibility cloak, I'm not trying to dictate how the magical world works. . .These here are merely theories. Take them or leave them. BTW, guess what my favourite magical creature is ^_^

The Darkness of Harry Potter

Chapter Four

***

Lessons began the next day, and the Seventh Years finally discovered the meaning of hard work. Ron was horrified in their first lesson, Transfiguration, when they were given a surprise test to find out how much of the previous year's work they remembered. They were also given a huge amount of homework from each teacher. Even Hagrid, didn't go easy on them, and when they went down to his hut on the second day, after supper, he sent them away again as soon as they admitted they hadn't done all their homework yet.

But Defence Against The Dark Arts was something else altogether. When they arrived, the classroom was empty. Everything had been removed from the room, from the desks and chairs, right down to the last quill and sheet of parchment. It was a plain, empty room.

"Maybe we're meant to be somewhere else?" Hermione suggested. 

"But our timetables say we're having our lessons in the same old room," Ron pointed out.

"Must be a misprint. We could go and ask Professor McGonagal, she'll know where we're meant to be."

The rest of the class agreed, and Hermione began to lead them away when a soft voice spoke from within the room.

"You may all enter. Your lesson will take place here as normal."

Harry peered back through the doorway. The room was still perfectly empty. "Er?" he asked, "hello? Professor?"

"Yes?" the soft voice replied. "I said you may enter. Now enter, before I lose my patience."

Harry glanced at the others and shrugged. Hermione gave him a gentle nudge, and he walked into the room, closely followed by Hermione. The others seemed reluctant to follow.

"All of you, please," said the voice. "I can hardly teach a class of two."

Hesitantly, the rest of the class gathered around Harry and Hermione. The door shut behind them, making them jump. Harry realised he was gripping his wand, and let go, trying to keep an air of calm about him. But the sound of footsteps startled him once more, and his fingers closed on his wand again. As they did so, he heard a quietly muttered spell, and suddenly he was shooting up into the air, banging his head on the ceiling, and tumbling back towards the floor. He heard Hermione scream, but before he hit the floor, a huge, soft mattress appeared below him, and he bounced a couple of times before rolling off and sprawling on the floor, at someone's feet. He groaned quietly, and looked up.

"Mr Potter, I presume?" asked the man looking down at him. Harry nodded. "Thought as much. That was awful, Potter. You were acting as if you had been threatened, when you hadn't, and when you were you failed to react. I'll have to take five points from Gryffindor, I'm afraid."

The man helped Harry back to his feet. He was tall and thin, and had a shock of silver hair. His long robes were bright green silk, and he wore a faint smile which reminded Harry of Remus for some reason. 

"Wha'. . . ?" Harry began, but the professor had walked over to the chalk board, which had conveniently reappeared, and was writing something on it. At the top he wrote the words "Professor Rinaldi", and underneath, "Unfamiliar situations."

"Change!" said Rinaldi, spinning round to face the class again. "When things are different from what we expect, we get nervous. Oh, don't stand on my account, take a seat."

Harry blinked. The desks and chairs and everything else had come back. He poked the chair cautiously to make sure it was real, then sat down.

"And not only change. Many things make us nervous. Unexpected things. Mysterious disembodied voices, for example." Rinaldi smiled again. He had very sharp little teeth, Harry noticed. "But we have to learn, not everything unexpected is out to get us." He pointed his wand rather randomly at Ron, and a huge chocolate cake appeared on the desk in front of him. Ron jumped, but grinned when Rinaldi caught his eye. "You can eat it, it's not poisoned or anything. But I refuse to be held responsible should you become ill from eating it all by yourself. Now then." He addressed the class again. "When you entered, you could not see me, but you could hear me. Potter seemed very keen to blast me with his wand, but he had no idea where I was until I shut the door. Why didn't you react when I shut the door, Potter?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "Couldn't think of a spell, sir."

"Right. Why?"

"Er. . ."

"Because you didn't know what the threat was. Was I not in the room, and merely using telekinesis? Was I merely invisible? Was I pointing my wand at you, or doing something else? Of course, you have no idea. When you cannot see your opponent it is difficult to know how to react. They don't have to be hidden from you, either, you may simply not be able to predict their next move, and when things get unpredictable, we get nervous. And when we get nervous, what do we do, Potter?"

Harry shrugged again. "Bash our heads on the ceiling?"

"We make _mistakes._ But there is a solution, in the form of a spell which I intend to teach you today. A spell which will make all things in a tense situation clear to you. However, this is a very difficult spell to learn, and all I can do is give you the instructions. It is up to you to find the ability within yourself to perform the spell." Professor Rinaldi picked up his wand and waved it. "The appropriate spell is this: Acclaro!"

He watched them wave their wands and say the word for a few moments, then interrupted. "But that is not all. This is a spell which requires not only strong magical power, but mental power also. If your mind is weak, this spell could be dangerous to you in life-threatening situations. If it goes wrong within the classroom, you may be left with a migraine, but nothing more. When you cast the spell, you mind must be open. In a normal frame of mind, human beings – wizards and muggles – ignore many things. Muggles are especially good at not seeing what shouldn't be there yet is; but we do it all the time as well. When a wizard conceals himself, what he is doing is not making himself invisible, unless of course he has an invisibility cloak. What he is doing is appealing to that part of the mind of others which ignores things that shouldn't be there, and makes others ignore him. Even if he is expected, a good wizard can persuade anyone he is not there. For this spell to work, you need to be able to switch off that part of your brain, the part that clings to normal everyday things and ignores the unusual, and allow yourself to see what is really there, not just what you want to see. This is one of the most difficult things to do."

Someone had their hand up. The professor nodded at them. 

"But that's not magic." It was Dean Thomas speaking. He looked puzzled. "That's psychology."

"And you think what goes on inside the human brain isn't a kind of magic?" Rinaldi retorted. He sounded annoyed at being interrupted, but his smile was still there. Harry wondered if his pointy teeth made it impossible for him to relax his mouth. Dean had shrugged. 

"Well it is," Rinaldi continued. "It is the most basic magic of all, and the most difficult to master. All everyday magic is based on perception and conviction. Mind magic, headology, psychology, whatever you call it, is under appreciated and often passed off as too difficult to teach young wizards, who then grow to know nothing about it. Now then. There are several things in this room which you can't see – I don't know why you're all suddenly looking around, you can't see them, that's the point. If and when you successfully cast the spell, they will be revealed to you. It is merely my will which is keeping them concealed. . . Let's see who amongst you can defeat my will."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, then picked up their wands. Harry concentrated on the floor, in case there was something concealed lying there, and waved his wand and said the word "acclaro", and absolutely nothing happened. Hermione seemed to be having similar problems. He glanced at Ron, who had shut his eyes. 

"You're not going to see anything that way," Harry commented.

"Shh," said Hermione, "Look at him."

Harry looked. Ron seemed to be in a sort of meditative trance, still seated, with his eyes closed and his want poised. He looked serene and calm, and almost as if he wasn't really there at all, his mind was somewhere else. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he shouted "Acclaro!"

There was a moment of silence, as everyone looked at Ron, whose terrified gaze was fixed on Professor Rinaldi's desk. 

"What is it?" Hermione hissed anxiously. "What can you see, Ron?"

Rinaldi was watching from behind his desk. He reached out his right hand and picked up something which, although apparently quite large, was completely invisible to Harry. Ron followed it with his horrified gaze.

"Mr Weasley's got it," said Rinaldi softly, stroking the thing in his hand with his left forefinger. 

"Sp. . .sp. . ." muttered Ron.

"Don't you like her?" Rinaldi asked, looking slightly hurt. "I call her Rosali."

Ron seemed to snap out of his trance. "Rosali!? It's a ruddy great spider!"

The class relaxed. Rinaldi put the spider into the top drawer of his desk, and asked for everyone to put their wands down. "Now then. Why can Mr Weasley let himself see Rosali, and the rest of you can't?"

Malfoy spoke from the back of the class. "Because he's a wimp who expects to see spiders everywhere."

Ron span round and snapped "I could see everything else he'd concealed too, Malfoy! I just happened to get preoccupied with the spider, that's all."

"Alright, Ron, what else had I hidden?" asked Rinaldi.

"A cauldron, a stack of books, a big poster of a unicorn on that wall over there, and Professor Dumbledore." As he said the headmaster's name, Dumbledore appeared in front of the class, smiling at them. 

"Very well done indeed, Ron, ten points to Gryffindor. Have you any idea what the answer to the Professor's question is? How come you could do it, but no one else has mastered it yet?"

Ron shrugged. "Because I don't waste brain power studying?" he suggested, giving Hermione a funny look. 

Dumbledore laughed. "That's very nearly it. What do you do when you should be studying?"

"Oh that's easy. I sit there and stare into space."

"I bet when Miss Granger isn't studying, her mind is buzzing with thoughts, isn't it, Hermione?" Dumbledore waited for Hermione to nod. "Which is good, of course, but doesn't leave much scope for introspection. Rather than thinking about potions and spells and people and lessons and Turkish delight, and other such wonderful things, we should take time to think about our minds, and not only that but take control of them. Isn't that right, Professor?"

Rinaldi, who had his feet up on the desk, nodded. "It's all about control. First learn to control your mind. Then you can control the situation by knowing what the opponent doesn't know you know, and you've as good as won. Lesson over."

"My head hurts," muttered Dean, as they left the classroom for lunch. 

"Mine too," muttered Harry. "And it's not as if I study more than I should, so why can't I do it?"

"It's not about studying or not, Harry," said Hermione briskly. "it's about clearing your mind of thoughts and everyday worries. I think we could all do with some practice at that." 

"'Scuse me." Somebody pushed past them as they made their way downstairs. Harry recognised Rinaldi's green robes and silvery ponytail from behind, as the professor skipped down the stairs three at a time. "Wonder why he's in such a hurry?" he muttered. 

They didn't have a lesson that afternoon, but at nine o'clock, they had Astronomy. A fat full moon hung over the castle as the class shivered their way up to the astronomy tower. Harry disliked this lesson, and wasn't particularly bothered if he passed his NEWT in it or not. He spent the entire time with his eyes shut and his unconscious mind slowly opening to conscious control. 

"Acclaro," he whispered, and opened his eyes. He didn't know how to tell if the spell had worked if there was nothing being hidden, but then his gaze fell on Lavender Brown, who's hair this year was long and blonde. It took Harry a moment in the dark to notice that her hair was now light brown, and had in fact been magically altered to look blonde. He smiled to himself. There was nothing he couldn't do if he put his mind to it.

To Be Continued. . .?


	5. Chapter 5

The Darkness of Harry Potter  
  
Chapter Five  
  
One morning not long before the end of September, Hermione was incredibly unsettled over breakfast. Harry sat back and watched her fidget for a while, but finally his curiosity overcame his half-hearted amusement.  
  
"What's the matter?" he asked.  
  
"Eh?" Hermione stared at him. "Oh. My Daily Prophet hasn't arrived."  
  
"Post was fifteen minutes ago, if it's not here it's not coming," said Ron.  
  
"How annoying," grumbled Hermione. "I'm going to feel like I'm blind for the rest of the day until I can get a copy. . . What are you two laughing at?"  
  
"Nothing," said Ron, as he snorted into his cornflakes and Harry turned to talk to the person next to him so Hermione couldn't see the mocking grin on his face.  
  
"You're both bloody immature, I hope you realise," snapped Hermione, going back to her breakfast.  
  
***  
  
A couple of hundred miles away, Remus Lupin was, unusually, still asleep. He wasn't used to late mornings, but they had recently become one of the new luxuries introduced to his lifestyle. Now that Harry wasn't in the house and thus unable to protest, Kail was half living there, half not. This meant that he was essentially living in the house, but hadn't brought enough of his own belongings with him to make it difficult to pretend he wasn't. Remus felt a little guilty about this. While there was no reason he could see that he shouldn't have to be completely alone just because Harry was at school, he knew his adopted son would hate the idea of Kail living with them. The pair had discussed the matter at length, and it had been decided that come Christmas, Kail would leave again before Harry returned, to give the boy and his mentor some quality time together. But there was still a weight on Remus' mind.  
  
What if Harry was right?  
  
Remus slept fitfully. In his dreams, a slender black-haired figure watched him from a distance, always just out of view, following him, never letting him out of his sight. That was just how Sirius had behaved in the time between Hogwarts and Azkaban – how they both behaved, to an extent. James had put it perfectly into words; "You two are bloody obsessed with each other." It was true; hardly a thought had entered Remus' head during those years that wasn't something to do with Sirius, and the other had confessed to the same thing. But Sirius had been almost fanatical towards the end; not only protective and possessive, but fiercely jealous at times. In those days everyone was concerned with the safety of their loved ones, but Sirius had a habit of taking everything too far. His sole purpose had become protecting his friends, but Remus was often thankful when Sirius' efforts were directed towards keeping Lily and James safe rather than him.  
  
After Sirius' escape from Azkaban, things had obviously been different. Remus had had to conceal and protect Sirius this time round, and they had, in those final months, rekindled that old passion which had existed between them since their late teens. But Sirius had changed. He was less obsessive, nowhere near as playful or romantic. His mind was heavy with dread and worry, and as much as Remus loved him, there had been a part of Sirius, a secret, distant, haunted part, which Remus had failed to connect with, to understand. And maybe that loss of complete understanding between them had made it easier for Remus to let his lover go.  
  
As he dreamed, he tossed and turned. He dreamed he was running from something now, and although he knew it, he refused to admit that he was running from Sirius. His dead lover's voice rang in his ears, young and energetic and youthful, and Remus knew he was remembering snatches of real conversation.  
  
"I'll never let you go, Moony. Never. You're mine, always and forever."  
  
"Do you promise?"  
  
"I promise. I'll never let you go. . ."  
  
And then in a flash he saw Sirius in Azkaban, that one time he had visited him, small and cold and trembling, talking about the things he heard at night, and how he couldn't sleep, couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and then he was in Grimmauld Place, watching as Sirius strode up and down the room, a caged animal again, longing for escape, and now he was standing in Godric's Hollow, staring at the charred remains of a house, and suddenly the rush of pictures and sound stopped. And he was standing before the veil, watching as Sirius plummeted backwards, in agonising slow motion, and he tried to scream but nothing came out. . .  
  
It took Remus a while to realise his eyes were open. He was breathing heavily and trembling slightly. Someone was watching him with their back to the bright window so he couldn't see their face.  
  
"Sirius?"  
  
The figure shook its head and moved closer, kneeling beside the bed. "You've been dreaming," said Kail.  
  
Remus nodded mutely, and took a couple of deep breaths. "Nightmare," he muttered.  
  
"With Sirius in?"  
  
". . .Yes. I saw him die again."  
  
Kail made a small compassionate sound, and pulled the werewolf into his arms. Remus couldn't summon the energy to resist, and went limp, clinging to the bigger man. They remained like that for a while, but as Kail went to stand, Remus held him down.  
  
"What if Harry was right?" he croaked.  
  
Kail frowned. "Sorry?"  
  
"What if Sirius would hate this. . .Me being with you so soon after his death?"  
  
"He wouldn't," Kail insisted. "He'd want you to be happy, and I know you're happier with me than you would be alone. . .Aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, but. . . He was always so jealous. . ."  
  
Kail put a comforting arm around Remus, and looked him in the eye. "Rem, you can't cheat on a dead man. Stop feeling guilty, it won't achieve anything. We were never together while Sirius was alive, not even when he was in Azkaban, you've done nothing wrong. Sirius loved you enough to want you to be with someone, and he would understand that I love you too."  
  
Remus tried to look convinced, but once Kail had left the house to try and buy a paper, as one hadn't been delivered as normal, he slumped back onto the bed and gave up trying not to cry in despair.  
  
***  
  
"Oi, Fred, got any more of them eyeball ice cubes? They went down a treat at work the other week."  
  
Fred Weasley grinned at his most regular customer. "Got a new load ready just today," he announced. "How many people did you get with them?"  
  
The small, green-haired man on the other side of the counter counted on his fingers. "Dozen or so. The best was the tea lady, she always has ice cubes in her drink and she's got this thing about disembodied bits. She screamed so loudly when she saw they'd turned into eyeballs that someone called security."  
  
"Excellent, Hamish!" Fred shook his customer's hand. "How's it going at the Daily Prophet anyway? Having problems? We didn't get a paper this morning."  
  
"Not been in since the weekend, Fred mate. I'll go get you one if you like, we're just round the corner."  
  
Fred watched Hamish vanish out of the door, then ambled into the stockroom to make up a box of eyeball ice cubes. George appeared, trotting downstairs two at a time.  
  
"Did I show you the letter we got from Ron?" he asked, waving a bit of parchment.  
  
"Nope," said Fred, taking the letter. "You box these eyeballs up, will you?"  
  
His eyes scanned the parchment as George scooped some of the eyeball ice cubes into a box. The letter was short, and basically described their new professor. "Doesn't sound too bad, does he?"  
  
"No, but it's the nice ones you have to watch out for," said George mysteriously.  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"Nothing, just thought it sounded good."  
  
"I bet if he tries anything funny, Harry will sort him out," said Fred confidently. "We taught that kid well."  
  
George grinned. Then the bell rang, summoning the pair back out onto the shop floor. Hamish had returned, wearing a slight frown.  
  
"They recalled the Prophet this morning," he told them. "Apparently they'd just finished printing when they got some major news, so they destroyed every copy and set to work printing a new lot. They'll be done within the hour."  
  
"Can't they print them magically? That'd be quicker," suggested Fred.  
  
"They do print it magically. Have you any idea how many copies they have to make? It's going to take a long time no matter what. What's troubling me is, what on earth this news could be. Nothing's made them recall the Prophet since the first time Voldemort led his Death Eaters to attack a whole village. . . That was nineteen seventy nine. It can only be something really big."  
  
***  
  
it was during a Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson that Hermione's Daily Prophet finally arrived. The owl delivering it came crashing through the window above Rinaldi's head, raining splinters of glass down on the teacher's desk. Rinaldi reacted instantly, sweeping his wand out and shouting "Resarcio!" The glass stopped falling inches above him, and as if in a played-backwards tape, flew upwards to re-form the broken window. The owl, who didn't seem to notice the trouble it had caused, landed on Hermione's desk and waited patiently for her to untie the paper from its leg. Rinaldi glared at it, then opened the window to let it out, bowing slightly as it ambled past him. When it had flown off, he shut the window again.  
  
"Sorry, sir," said Hermione. "No idea why it's this late. . ." she began to open the paper eagerly, but a glance from Rinaldi made her apologise again and stuff it into her bag.  
  
The seventh year were enjoying their Defence Against The Dark Arts lessons this year, for a number of reasons. Rinaldi was as fun and knowledgeable as Lupin or Mad Eye Moody, and nowhere near as insane, fraudulent or downright homicidal as their other teachers over the past six years. He was an efficient professor, quickly establishing what the students needed to know, and teaching it to them as well as possible. But best of all, he had a tendency to pick on Slytherins – especially the new Head Boy. The entire Gryffindor class found this highly entertaining, but only Harry, Ron and Hermione found it bewildering. Wasn't Rinaldi supposed to be a friend of Lucius Malfoy?  
  
Today he was describing how to defend against the various magical creatures who were now known to have joined Voldemort.  
  
"Trolls are the biggest and foulest of the lot," he said. "But even they are easy to deal with compared to the newest group of beasts to declare allegiance to Voldemort. All you have to do to defeat a troll is ask it a perplexingly difficult question – "what's the answer to two times four?" is the standard question – and while they're thinking, stun 'em. However, we're now having to learn how to deal with werewolves."  
  
A collective gasp rose from the back row. Hermione was on her feet in a flash.  
  
"Werewolves have joined Voldemort!?" She exclaimed.  
  
"The Bohemian Clans of the Czech Republic have, as have a number of clans from Germany and Romania. These clans are your stereotypical bloodthirsty monsters. Even when they're in human form, they are dangerous. They live in large family groups, deep in the forests, and terrorise nearby villages. They're no new problem. . .And I know what you're all thinking. Civilised British werewolves are not being accused of involvement with Voldemort. However, knowing how to defend yourselves against them is essential, and it is the same for nearly all breeds of werewolf. . . yes, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione lowered her hand. "Werewolves are repelled by silver and fire," she said.  
  
"Almost everything is repelled by fire, but yes, werewolves cannot touch silver. These things are all that can kill them. A silver bullet is the traditional muggle werewolf repellent, but the best way for us to deal with them is a simple stupefying. It is quicker and cleaner than trying to destroy the werewolf. They are strong creatures, and any spell not perfectly cast will be easily thrown off, so we must practice accuracy. . ."  
  
Hermione dug out her Daily Prophet under the desk, as Rinaldi continued to talk. Harry stared at her in surprise.  
  
"Not paying attention to a teacher?" he whispered teasingly.  
  
Hermione flapped a hand at him. "I can cast an accurate stupefying spell, thank you very much. I want to find out why they sent this so late. . .oh my!" She was looking at the headline. Ron and Harry peered over her shoulders.  
  
"Attack on Scottish Village – four hundred dead," read the main headline. "Thousands injured," added a smaller headline. In a font slightly smaller than the first: "Death Eaters suspected."  
  
"How awful!" Hermione gasped. Her hands were trembling as she held the paper, and she had gone white. Ron glanced at Harry, and when he was sure Harry's full attention was on the article, he put an arm round Hermione and held her close.  
  
"It's true then," she whispered. "He's going to keep gaining power again until nothing can stop him!"  
  
"Shh!" hissed Harry, glancing at Rinaldi, who hadn't noticed they were paying no attention whatsoever to his class. In fact, he seemed to be acting something out at the front of the room, to the delight of the other students. Harry wasn't in the mood to find out what it was all about. He was starting to feel slightly ill. World War wasn't a distant threat any more – it was real, and it was right on the doorstep.  
  
. . . To be continued? 


End file.
